Kyou Kara Maou : The Trouble With Trolls
Summary: Wolfram's attempt to bypass Maou Wedding Curse with a small family ceremony, backfires when an uninvited relative arrives - the Troll Mother.
Disclaimer: I have no rights to Kyou Kara Maou, of course.
Reminder: there's a family tree on my "homepage" link on the jinjyaa "author's profile". If you can't keep these people straight, don't worry about the spoilers, just look at the chart. Sorry – the chart can't be put on fanfiction dot net – no formatting available.
Japanese: "aniue" means "older brother above", "aniki" or "onii-san" less exalted "older brother". Likewise "chichiue" vs. "chichi" or "otou-san". Normally, one's older brother or father would outrank one, but that isn't the case with Brendan Lord Gratz or Aldrich Lord Bielenfeld, who rule in place of the disgraced Adelbert and retired Friedrich. So, by calling Adelbert "aniki", Brendan isn't being affectionate, he's pulling rank. Aldrich is simply being correct by calling his father "chichi" – Friedrich wouldn't permit him to do otherwise. I used the Japanese when I started this series of stories, because this feudalism is part of the social fabric of Shin Makoku, and sounds really stilted in English.
Please review.
Chapter 4 : The Game
"But my wedding is in 5 days…" Wolfram complained.
"Really, cousin? My invitation must have gotten lost in the mail," said Brendan. Wolfram winced. "Adelbert, time's up, are you coming or going?"
"Where are you going?" his older brother demanded.
"The rules stand, aniki," said Brendan, arms crossed over his chest. "If you come with us, you obey me. If you can't do that, go away. Only the ones with me get to know where we're going or why."
"And my daughter?" Six-year-old Frieda von Gratz was on the pier, hand in hand with sixteen-year-old Greta. Since Adelbert was gone much of the time working for Conrad, Frieda was fostered with Wolfram and Yuuri.
"Frieda stays with Wolfram and me."
Wolfram noticed Cecilie's yacht was already casting off from the pier. He suspected this had much to do with the argument – Brendan was stalling Adelbert to keep him off that boat. Much as Wolfram sympathized with Adelbert, he needed to pick his battles wisely with Brendan. Adelbert was free to go, but Wolfram was not. So he kept his mouth shut and let them argue while his mother made good her getaway. Then turned and nodded to Brendan.
Brendan acknowledged this with a nod. "No more discussion, Adelbert, we need to go. Are you with us or not?"
"Damn you, Brendan," said Adelbert, then grudgingly conceded, "With you."
"And you vow to obey me. And no one leaves this party without my permission," insisted Brendan. Adelbert balked – Brendan was fifty years his junior, closer in age to Wolfram. Brendan added, "I remind you your liege Lord Weller sent you to me."
"Without being informed," Adelbert pointed out. "Alright. I so vow, Lord Gratz."
"Thank you."
Brendan had them trade places, the children brought into the dockhouse, so all the adults and adolescents could talk freely out on the pier without watching them as carefully.
"Alright, people," Brendan began, "the game we're playing is 'hide the heir'. Aldrich's playing for time in Shin Makoku, trying to give us a head start. But there's no guarantee the opponent isn't already moving. Ground rules – we tell no one anything outside this group, including the children. We're not on this trip to make friends – keep your lips sealed. Wolfram, you're second in command. No one leaves the group without my permission. If I'm lost, Wolfram is absolute dictator. If we're both lost – Shinou be with you.
"First order of business: where we're going. Anyone have a strong preference between the Fens of Krist, or Spitzweg? And why."
"I can raise an army in Spitzweg, if need be," offered Wolfram.
Brendan shook his head. "We're incognito – if we need an army, it's past time to surrender." He and Annissina stared at Wolfram appraisingly. "We could die his hair… cut it… contact lenses…"
"Maybe if you broke his nose as well," opined Annissina. "It's no good, Brendan. Those Emeraude von Bielenfeld eyes – Spitzweg, Walde, Weller, Gratz, Wincott, Bielenfeld, it doesn't matter. The average swineherd would recognize Wolfram in any of those domains, or Shin Makoku proper."
The late Emeraude was Friedrich's full sister. The distinctive build, satiny clear skin, heart-shaped face, cowlicks, but especially the huge breathtaking green eyes, had proved equally heritable from either of them. But Friedrich had stayed in Bielenfeld, while the legendary beauty Emeraude had married into the ruling families of first Wincott, then Spitzweg. Wolfram descended from both Friedrich and Emeraude. "You and Adelbert can't exactly hide in a breadbox, either," Annissina added.
"My people are from the Fens," offered Efram. "I know them. My mother and stepfather are back there, now, in fact."
Brendan nodded, "I was counting on it, Efram. Günter too, I imagine." Günter nodded. A low-ranked member of the ruling von Krists, Günter was raised in Krist Hall. But the Fens covered a good third of the domain. "The Fens it is. Our ride should be here soon." He gestured vaguely at the river.
"What's going on, Brendan?" asked Wolfram. "What is this game?" No need to ask who's the puppetmaster, he thought. Aldrich…
"The overall game is survival, demon versus troll. Aldrich is the master player for our side. We're just one piece on his board, though one very close to his heart. Troll Mother is his opponent.
"All the other great Mazoku races have dwindled. Some, like the goblins and elves, have intermingled heavily with demons, though some purebloods remain. Others seem to be gone, like the wood nymphs. The trolls fared worst of all, trapped on the losing side in Shinou's Great War. Only Troll Mother survived, a pregnant young princess, secreted away by her faithful goblins.
"But trolls are a good deal smarter and more powerful than the lesser races, demons included. Starting from herself and her son, Troll Mother has rebuilt her tribe, and now has descendants ruling three of Shin Makoku's ten allied domains. How much power she has over them – over me – remains unclear. I've never met her – she's been asleep since before I was born. While she hibernates to prolong her life, the Daughters play a quiet game, upbreeding part-trolls to higher-trolls in secret. Lord Franklin von Trondheim may know their strength. I don't."
"Is Franklin on Troll Mother's side, or Aldrich's?" asked Wolfram.
"Neutral, for as long as possible, we hope," said Brendan. "The game's been delayed a bit, thanks to Franklin. He was supposed to wake Troll Mother years ago, soon after Aldrich's 200th birthday party. But Aldrich," he snorted, "applied himself and finally got Glynda pregnant, then leaned on Franklin to wait so he could see his son's childhood. Then the human-demon wars were splitting Shin Makoku apart. Franklin decided time was up a few years ago, but then Glynda committed suicide. Franklin delayed again to let Aldrich recuperate. But that's likely the last favor we'll get from him. With Troll Mother awake… he'll obey. As will anyone of the slightest goblin ancestry. She has complete control over them, when she chooses."
"And Aldrich," said Günter harshly. "Aldrich is a quarter troll."
Brendan looked unsurprised, though he sighed. The others looked alarmed.
Adelbert said, "That can't be. He's too small. Look at us, we're eighth trolls."
Brendan looked at him sadly. "Aldrich has a lot of short ancestry, aniki. And… we suspect Chichiue was three eighths, like Franklin and Ted. Maybe more. Troll Mother won the first round of this game before Aldrich was born, by tricking Friedrich into thinking Aldrich would be an eighth troll."
Wolfram stole a glance at his half-brother Efram. Efram shook his head slightly. It was possible the others didn't know all of Aldrich's bloodlines. But if so, it was because the game master wanted his pieces playing with incomplete information.
"Why would Friedrich agree to any part troll?" asked Wolfram. "Why risk a third domain in troll hands?"
"Bielenfeld was never supposed to be Aldrich's," Brendan reminded him. "And under Bielenfeld law, it's easy to take it away from him. Friedrich was trying to trick her. The last game was the Great Troll and Goblin War. Our best troll expert was General von Walde, Gwendal's father, a quarter-goblin, directing it under strict guard from a tower at Blood Pledge Castle, with Lord Wincott pouring anti-entrollment potions into him. That war ended with a negotiated truce, not a win. The von Trondheims won a place in the Ten Aristocrats. The trolls won complete autonomy within their section of Trondheim. The Maou leaned on Friedrich, and he agreed to provide a Bielenfeld-style cradle buddy to Franklin, to truly know the troll-kin. So that this time, we'd stand a better chance. Though of course, in the meantime, they've also grown stronger."
"Gwendal? Is part-goblin?" Günter asked in horror.
And that's why Hahaue didn't want you teaching us about trolls and goblins, thought Wolfram. Racist. Serves you right that your favorite pupil is of a race you'd like to genocide. Well, favorite pupil before Yuuri, anyway… Goblin was a tricky ancestry. All discernable traits – including intelligence, thank Shinou, for goblins were a truly stupid bunch – came from the demon side of a demon-goblin mix.
"Grendel's even more goblin," said Annissina softly. "I'm a quarter. As well as mermaid." The goblin part was a surprise, mermaid not. There was some question whether the von Khrennikov were more mermensch than demon. "Am I… a danger to Grendel's safety?"
"Thank you for telling me, Annissina," Brendan said gently. "No, no danger, now that I know of it. Even I am troll enough to entroll you. Aldrich taught me how. We practice on Gwendal every year or so, then order him to forget it happened. I make him do the chicken dance, but Aldrich prefers making him a whirling dervish. Your husband has astonishingly good balance against dizziness."
Oddly, it was the right thing to say. Caught between the urge to outrage and the image of Gwendal as a whirling dervish, Annissina just had to laugh.
"They're hostages, then. Our children," said Wolfram. "Including Bertram?"
"All of us, adults included. Trenton and Dietrich and Frieda are her descendants – to Troll Mother, they belong to her, against their parents good behavior. She can use Grendel and demon blood ties between Walde and Trondheim to control Gwendal politically, or control him directly, or use a subtle combination of the two, and possibly Khrennikov as well. Your group belongs to Aldrich's Manfred and the Maou. In her view, Adelbert and I belong to her outright. So Aldrich chose us carefully, put us together, and made sure he wouldn't know where we went, just that we stayed off the board."
"Yuuri," said Greta. "I bet Yuuri could solve this."
"Yes," said Wolfram. "Yuuri needs to know all of this. He would find a way."
"Aldrich's probably briefing Yuuri right now," said Brendan, eyeing the bright beginnings of sunrise. "Aldrich seems to think this is why Shinou had Yuuri born offworld, not the humans or the box problem. But Aldrich wanted Yuuri to come to it fresh, not prejudiced against the trolls. To begin by meeting Troll Mother, not by the seriousness of the situation. Yuuri is Aldrich's most potent game piece."
Wolfram snorted. "As though Aldrich would let a game get that close."
"You're wrong, cousin," Brendan said softly. "Aldrich won't win this game easily. There's only one round Aldrich isn't prepared to concede if need be."
"Us," suggested Efram, confident that Aldrich would protect them at all costs.
"No," said Brendan. "He set it up so that we could protect us, in spite of him if need be. The only round Aldrich won't concede is full scale bloodbath." There was a long silence as they digested that.
"What's the next round?" asked Wolfram. "Assuming we manage to escape being the next round."
"Well, hopefully Troll Mother has other business Aldrich doesn't know about. Which Aldrich will have to ad-lib his way through. Barring that, next up may be Aldrich himself – breeding with Troll Mother. He wouldn't survive. But trolls choose the gender of their children. The prize is a male five-eighths super-troll with both fire healing and earth maryoku. Quite a coup. Breeding up-troll from five-eighths to follow in about 50 years. Unlike Aldrich, he could service however many up-troll females they have. Dietrich could have a veritable army of nephews of unprecedented power."
The fire healing gift bred true to the next male generation with 100 percent accuracy. Likewise a half troll or better was the most powerful earth maryoku bearer of them all. Wolfram's eyes widened at the prospect of that combination. And… Is that what quarter trolls die of? Breeding? What a way to go…
"They'd kill Aldrich before they let that happen," Annissina murmured.
"Yuuri won't let them kill him," said Wolfram, quietly but confidently.
"And if Troll Mother wins that round? Then which side are you on, Lord Gratz?" challenged Günter.
Wolfram turned on Günter in outrage, only to turn back aghast, as Brendan calmly admitted, "Then we switch to the winning side. The group… may choose to part ways at that point."
Along non-troll vs. troll-goblin lines, that is. Wolfram had meant to ask whether it was Brendan or Aldrich who had appointed him second in command of this group. The question died within him unspoken. Aldrich chose me.
oOo
"Trolls are smarter and more powerful…" said Yuuri thoughtfully. In all truth, he'd assumed a 'highly intelligent Mazoku beast' meant something along the lines of a gorilla or dolphin. Though now that it was pointed out, it stood to reason that demons used themselves as the frame of reference, and high or low intelligence were relative to them. It was Yuuri who'd assumed demons were the most intelligent. He'd also wrongly assumed the Troll and Goblin War was between the trolls and the goblins. Fortunately, Wolfram had long since drummed into his head that if he realized he'd been an idiot, he could simply correct himself quietly without giving everyone around him a trip report.
They were meeting in his situation room. He was woken when Friedrich von Bielenfeld and Everett von Wincott arrived around 12:30, and they lunched here with Gwendal and Conrad. Manfred left Aldrich sleeping and joined them around two, delivering the hard blow to Friedrich and Everett, that Aldrich was a quarter troll. Aldrich wandered in about forty-five minutes later. Fastidious Friedrich couldn't stand the state of his son's hair, Aldrich having left Bielenfeld without his valet, and unable to rebind his hair single-handedly. So Aldrich knelt before Friedrich, humbly letting his father french-braid his hair, neatly clubbing the end with some thread. The style brought more of the sun-starved lower blue layers of his hair to the surface.
Yuuri had heard most of the history and stakes of the game information Brendan had reviewed with Wolfram's group, though he still believed Wolfram and his children were on the road to a cozy family visit in Gratzberg. As he matured, Yuuri only became better at sitting and listening, reserving judgment, giving his intent attention to each speaker. They'd reached a lull where he sat back to think on what he'd heard.
"Aldrich," he said. "Why am I 'Wolfram's Yuuri'? I'm having trouble with this 'smart' thing vs. … 'Wolfram's Yuuri'. And that whole girl-in-pink-who's-a-boy thing."
The other men took this light question as a break suitable for refreshing their tea-cups. But Aldrich, his grooming restored to Lordly standards, nodded, quite pleased. "Excellent, Sire! Trolls think differently – smarter, but differently. You see the people first, separate independent abstractions. Relationships between people are subordinate to the person. Likewise the history of the person. Trolls see the web of relationships instead, stretching out from themselves, time-sorted, encompassing… well, anything worth thinking about. The people are more like nodes on a graph, a bit abstract.
"For example, I'm sure you've noticed Ted is very methodical – likes to get all his facts in order, can even seem a little slow-witted, can't understand something until he's sorted it out. But Ted's actually brilliant. Once he has his… mental web… clear, he'll forget nothing, and can instantly and flawlessly weigh anything relevant to any matter at hand. Ted's a very troll thinker."
Gwendal and Manfred, Ted's cronies of well over a century, looked surprised and thoughtful at this. Yuuri kept his eye on the master. "As are you, clearly, Lord Aldrich. Though you can also switch in and out of it with ease… So, am I in some sense 'Wolfram's Yuuri' instead of 'the Maou'? Or in addition to it?"
Aldrich nodded, delighted at Yuuri's grasp of the matter. He'd thanked his father and moved to an armchair by now. "In addition to 'the Maou'. I'm building her another relationship line to you, giving her another option. And trolls are such nice people." Several of the others rolled their eyes at Aldrich's dogged insistence on that point. Yuuri wished they'd stop that. "She's happy to meet you that way. 'The Maou' way, is a serious problem. The history on that line of relationship is – bad. Pain, unbearable loss, treachery and betrayal, genocide, hatred, harking back to the arch genocide of them all, the one who appointed you Maou – Shinou. As long as possible, as much as possible, you want to strengthen 'Aldrich's Manfred's Wolfram's Yuuri'. The moment you're 'Shinou's Maou Yuuri' things get… difficult."
"What's her name then? Troll Mother… that's not a name. It's like a declaration of indomitable will. Who was she, before she became her goal?"
Aldrich sat back in his chair, thinking over that excellent insight. Though he didn't know – she was only Troll Mother, and had been for 4,000 years.
But Gwendal unexpectedly pitched in. "Tanya? On my father's death bed, he grabbed my hand at one point, and told me most intently, like it was the most important thing ever, 'The troll's name is Tanya!' I think… I'd asked if he had any regrets. Yeah, that was it. He regretted the trolls, he said. I thought he was simply raving at the time. After all, he was responsible for killing more trolls than anyone alive, it seemed impossible that he could regret it. But…"
"He regretted it, deeply," said Lord Wincott. "I stayed with him around the clock, to ensure he didn't get entrolled. He cried in his sleep, and muttered in Trollish – goblins have no language of their own. 'Shaumish…'?"
"'Shamshesh allem'," corrected all the men who'd been at the death feast that morning. Aldrich elaborated, "It's the troll prayer for the dead. It's sort of a regret and acceptance of the dead being's role in the web of life, taking upon yourself the strands of life that once bound that being into the web. To live is to eat, to eat is to kill, to kill is to eat, to eat is to live. That's for people you care about, of course. Nobody gets poetic about taking on the life ties of a mushroom or a poacher. Sorry about your friend, Yuuri, but… He did wander into troll lands looking for the kind of 'evil trolls who eat people'. And, he found them."
"Yeah, well, Alford was kinda like that," Yuuri said vaguely. "Say, Aldrich, is there any room for negotiation about this trolls killing people to eat them thing?"
"Killing people, then eating them," Aldrich corrected. "Trolls don't kill people in order to eat them. They killed him because he was a poacher. Granted… trolls consider eating someone else's mushroom or deer or dragon pretty much the same thing. It's a wider definition of 'poacher' than usual. But as for eating people once they're dead, no, that's non-negotiable. That's… like a religious rite."
"Though this morning, you didn't care for eating…" Yuuri deliberately left that sentence hanging there, delicately poised.
Aldrich looked away. "I grieved for my oldest friend, Yuuri. That rite does have religious meaning to me. In my will, I've asked that my body be returned to my mother's people. The joy… there's no way in hell I shared Ted's joy at Franklin's choice. Troll Mother had to pet me, entroll me, until I could even behave properly. I gave in to it, as Franklin would have wanted me to. Taking up the web of life, the strands that touched him, where I've stood next to him for my entire life…" Aldrich paused and closed his eyes to get hold of himself. "That was a religious rite."
The room fell silent at that. Friedrich and Manfred and Gwendal looked moved. Conrad and von Wincott were stone-faced.
"That's beautiful," said Yuuri. "Thank you, Lord Aldrich. Yes, I think I understand. No, that wouldn't be negotiable." Of course, it's still not acceptable to the population at large, Yuuri added in mental reservation. He added quietly, "How did Franklin die, Aldrich?"
"He was bred up-troll."
Yuuri frowned. "Explain, please?"
"Troll mother isn't trying to dilute trolls into the sea of demons. She allows down to quarter trolls, but they breed back up-troll when they're old enough, strong enough to stand a chance of surviving."
"So… he was ordered to leave his wife to marry a higher-part troll?"
"Breed, Yuuri, not marry," said Aldrich. "Trolls don't do marriage, that's a demon thing. A highly overrated one, at that."
Friedrich snorted in amusement. "I trust you don't tell all your marriage counseling clients this, Son?"
"I believe they've rather figured that out before they come to me, Chichi," Aldrich replied dryly. One of Aldrich's hobbies was helping aristocratic couples work out their marital problems. It was part of why his web of…
Yuuri blinked and stared at his powerful vassal. That's how he does it. Aldrich thinks like a troll. He tends his web of relationships hither and yon, my kitchen maids, the valets and grooms, every aristocratic couple whose marriage runs into the rocks, which is just about all of them… Every man who passed through his training troop, every fellow judge at a Bielenfeld agricultural fair, every plantation noble… His web encompasses the entire power structure of Shin Makoku. Adelbert and Wolfram think he's scheming and devious, but he's not. He sees the whole web, all the time, and when a result is needed, he easily sees which threads to tug on. That's amazing, Aldrich!
Aldrich sat forward in his chair, staring back intently, hoping against hope… "Sire? Have you seen a solution?"
"Hm? Ah, sorry, no. That was an insight into… how you accomplish such amazing results at times, Lord Aldrich. But the problem at hand… not yet. Sorry."
The crash back to hopelessness overcame Aldrich a moment. He sat back in his chair and covered his eyes with his hand.
"Aldrich, let's take a break before this evening starts," suggested Manfred. "You'll need your wits about you."
Behind his hand, Aldrich schooled his face back into its troll pleasant blandness, then re-emerged. "Yes, yes that's that's a good idea, thank you, Manfred. Sire, gentlemen, if you'll excuse me." He turned back at the door briefly, to say, "Ah, Chichi, Lord Wincott, if you could keep a low profile here? I don't imagine renewing your acquaintance with Troll Mother would be …"
"Point taken, Lord Bielenfeld," answered von Wincott. "We shall hide."
"Thank you. Ah, Chichi… in case I don't see you this evening…"
"Then I'll see you tomorrow," replied Friedrich firmly. "I have complete faith in you, Son. You'll play a good game, as always."
Aldrich wasn't sure whether he felt strengthened or abandoned by his father's refusal to entertain the possibility that Aldrich might not make it to tomorrow. But he smiled, nodded once in acknowledgement, and left with Manfred.
"Ah, are they, um…?" asked Yuuri.
Gwendal and Conrad looked ready to spit choice words on the subject of their pretty little step-father's indiscretions. But Friedrich cut them off coolly. "Troll Mother's hardly the only one playing for Aldrich's life in this game, Sire. We want him."
Taken aback by Friedrich's vehemence, Yuuri bowed slightly. "As do I, sir. Rest assured. Your son is one of the greatest men of Shin Makoku. I'm profoundly grateful for the work he's doing here."
"Gwendal," Lord Wincott changed the subject smoothly, "I was hoping to borrow your lady wife's laboratories. I believe I could drum up a potion that might help Aldrich. Might that be a good place for us to hide, as well?"
"Shinou, yes," bit out Gwendal. He kept Annissina's demonic laboratories as far from his office and bedroom as the confines of Blood Pledge Castle allowed. "It's in the south tower, I'll lead you there."
"How fitting," Lord Wincott said faintly. The south tower was where they'd imprisoned Gwendal's father, until not long before Aldrich was born, guarding and dosing him troll-proof, as he directed the Great Troll and Goblin War, attempting that genocide he regretted to his death bed. The older men chose not to mention this to Gwendal, however.
oOo
Please review?